Chapter 175

Lila

The forest looked like it was holding its breath. Mist hung in the hollows like watery milk poured between the trees, soft and cold against my shins.

Every step I took unstitched a thread of sound – wet leaves crunching, a twig snapping – and then the hush stitched itself back together as woods swallowed me whole.

It’s too quiet. The thought slid down my spine and settled there, prickling.

Ruby flickered once at the edge of my mind like a candle guttering in a draft. She was so far away.

Come on, I begged her, please. The bond shivered once, a faint, aching ripple, and went still again. I pressed a hand against my belly as if I could anchor all three of us with the touch.

My other hand tightened on the dagger. It bit the soft meat of my palm. Sweat loosened the wrap; I twisted it tighter with my teeth and tried to breathe through the iron taste.

A twig snapped to my left.

I spun, back to a trunk tacky with sap, lifting the blade. The mist shifted and shadows flowed where there’d been none. One pair of eyes, then another, and another. My throat went dry.

Rogues.

They fanned out in wolf form with a patience that turned my stomach, until they formed a loose ring around me. They blocked off every path I might use to run. Their chests rose and fell nearly in unison.

I could smell them now, the wet fur, dried blood, and sour breath.

“Steady,” I whispered, though my voice had nowhere to go but back into me.

The nearest one padded forward, head cocked, ears pricked to catch the sound of my breath. He watched the way I shifted my weight, the way my knife hand twitched, the way fear tried to crawl me up the tree.

Suddenly, he leapt.

I moved on reflex. The dagger bit across his chest in a shallow line that glistened dark against his light fur. He snarled and recoiled, giving way to another Rogue already springing for my legs.

I kicked, heel slamming into a rib cage, and pain jolted up my calf so hard I nearly saw stars. I used the tree to pivot, caught a very human form wrist with my free hand, and raked the knife across knuckles.

He yelped, but my cut wasn’t that deep. He still had his fingers.

Faster. The command buried itself under my ribs, breathless and certain. For a heartbeat Ruby surged with a throb of heat, strength briefly threading into my muscles. The world sharpened.

I ducked under a swipe of a paw and drove my shoulder into a chest, felt cartilage give under my elbow. A burst of speed carried me past a snapping jaw.

And then the strength vanished, sucked out of me so quickly my knees wobbled.

The world blurred at the edges. I stumbled. Claws raked across my shoulder, hot and searing; fabric tore, the skin burned. The sound that ripped from my throat wasn’t quite a scream, but more a swallowed, animal sound that made my throat raw.

Ruby. I reached for her, panic making me feel useless. She was gone again. I was just a woman with a bad knife and terrible odds.

The Rogues tightened the circle around me.

I slashed to keep them back and felt how heavy my arm had become. Sweat stung my eyes. One darted in low and I brought the blade down as he twisted, catching my wrist instead.

Pain flared. My fingers spasmed and the dagger wobbled in my grip.

“Let go,” I hissed at him.

I drove my knee up into his gut. He grunted, and my wrist tore free, skin burning where his claws had scored it. Another body hit my side driving me away from the tree.

I caught myself, and then something slammed into my back and the ground rose to meet me in a cold slap that knocked the breath from my lungs.

My knife flew and vanished into the brush.

The Rogue on top of me pinned my shoulders with his forearms and the first wound shot pain through my arm. His mouth opened; the hiss he made wasn’t a sound I’d ever heard from a man. Spit shone on his teeth. He lowered his head toward my throat like he would mark me.

I bucked. He was too heavy. My hands scrabbled for anything…a rock, a root, the knife I’d lost. My fingers dug into the earth as he pressed down harder.

We won’t die like this. The thought spurred another burst of energy in me.

I twisted my body sideways, trying to change the angle of his weight, to wedge a knee between us. Claws raked my ribs, and the pain bloomed white.

A howl came from the right.

The weight on my chest hesitated. And then the male pinning me vanished as if ripped away by the hand of the forest itself. Air flooded my lungs so fast I coughed.

I rolled onto my side, clutching at my burning shoulder, and dragged myself toward the glint of metal. My fingers closed around the dagger hilt, slick with someone’s blood. I turned, vision tunneling, ready to stab at whatever came next.

My eyes finally came into focus and it took me a moment to process what I was seeing.

He came. He finally came back.

Ronan hit the Rogues like a storm tearing roofs off houses. Cloak shredded, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and blood.

He moved like a man who’d been running for days on nothing but sheer will. He caught a Rogue mid-lunge, turned with the force of it, and drove the bastard into a tree trunk so hard the bark cracked. And so did the Rogues back.

Another came in at his side; Ronan’s elbow snapped back and the Rogue folded with a wet sound that made me flinch.

Ronan didn’t look at me. But he seemed to track me without difficulty as he positioned himself between me and the remaining Rogues.

I staggered to my feet, the world swaying with me. My ribs protested, my shoulder throbbed, my wrist sang with pain. But I lifted the dagger anyway.

The nearest Rogue bared his teeth at me and feinted left; I didn’t buy it. He came right, fast and I brought the blade up in a tight arc that etched fire along his forearm. He recoiled, eyes gone wide with frustration.

They’re penning me, I realized, nausea threatening my meager lunch.

“Lila!” Ronan’s voice, hoarse and raw, cut through the din. “Behind—”

I turned, too slowly. A body barreled towards me.

I dropped, and it clipped my shoulder instead of my neck, sending sparks through my vision. My knees hit mud; I slid, rolled, came up with the dagger between us.

The Rogue growled and then snapped away as Ronan crashed into him from the side, teeth bared.

The circle or Rogues broke for enough breaths that I could drag in air that didn’t taste like someone else’s mouth.

The rogues withdrew two steps in a single mind, regrouping, eyes flicking from me to Ronan to the dark beyond the trees as if expecting some kind of signal.

My whole body was shaking. I wrapped my free arm across my ribs to hold myself together and found my palm again on my belly, instinct kicking in.

Ronan slid a fraction closer to me without looking away from them. Blood ran from a cut at his hairline and trailed down his cheekbone. His chest heaved.

“Breathe,” he said, quiet enough that only I could hear it.

I did, because it was an order my body remembered how to follow.

The Rogues shifted their weight forward. The mist curled around their ankles making them seem more sinister. My grip tightened on the dagger until my knuckles ached. Ruby stirred with one trembling spark and sputtered out again.

I planted my feet in the mud beside Ronan and lifted the blade.

If they wanted me, they wouldn’t get me without a fight.